


Recycling

by imsfire



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, Jyn decides to make Cassian a small gift, Jyn remembering something her mother taught her, K-2's problems with authority and the general assumptions about droids, Knitting, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Supply and Repairs, cross-over with "Rank and File" by skitzofreak, hand-crafts, how the Alliance copes with shortages of materials, if she can just remember how to cast-on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 18:14:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13300488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsfire/pseuds/imsfire
Summary: Jyn can’t help looking around quietly.  After all, you never know when you’ll need to be able to find an exit or improvise a weapon in unfamiliar surroundings.  She looks around, and then, finishing the next-to-last of her briefing docs, she fiddles.  In a tray of broken droid parts waiting to be sorted into useful/fixable items and scrap, her hand comes to rest on a loose antenna missing the finial.There’s a touch on her arm and she looks up into a familiarly friendly face. “I’ve got some more of those somewhere, Sergeant,” says Quartermaster 2nd Class Sanduni cheerfully. "If you wanted a pair."





	Recycling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skitzofreak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skitzofreak/gifts).



> The bones of this story have been kicking around in my drafts folder for a while, just not quite coming together. Then I saw skitzofreak had added a new chapter (chapter 6) to the wonderful "Rank and File" featuring exactly the kind of recycling-and-repairs store I had in mind, and it kick-started me into tidying this up. With her permission I've borrowed one of her great OCs here to have a chat with Jyn, as the subject in question would be right up Sanduni's street!

After one too many well-meant attempts to give K-2 a standard memory wipe have ended in complaint reports filed, in yelps, in bruises and once in a minor skeletal fracture, the droid has irritably accepted being accompanied whenever he needs a clean or a spare part.  _Like an irresponsible minor_ , he gripes, every time; _Cassian, it’s no good telling me we’ll get this damaged servo fixed soon because it won’t be possible until either you or Jyn has the time to escort me **like an** **irresponsible minor**_.

They could point out that his idea of what constitutes responsible behaviour might be questioned in some quarters.  But the larger problem would still stand.  K’s simple wish not to be lobotomised will never be respected, despite clear orders to make an exception where he is concerned; no-one respects any droid enough to check if they’re due a wipe or not.  After the broken finger incident, they’ve all had to accept the inconvenience of him needing to be chaperoned.

Which is why Jyn is doing her background research for the next mission sitting on a workbench in Tech Stores instead of in her quarters.  She doesn’t really mind; it’s genuinely warm in Stores, and that in itself is so delicious she would almost fight Cassian for the privilege.  On top of that, she has a flask of hot tea and a crunchy protein bar, and music files on her data-pad to drown out the whine of metal-cutters from the far end of the room, and the carping of Delbek. the Technician Specialist 3rd Class who is struck with the job of trying to get K to shut up for ten minutes. 

And the next mission looks set to be an interesting one; interesting and worthwhile, if they can pull it off; and not _too_ dangerous.

Just the same, she can’t help looking around quietly.  After all, you never know when you’ll need to be able to find an exit or improvise a weapon in unfamiliar surroundings.  She looks around, and then, finishing the next-to-last of her briefing docs, she fiddles.

In a tray of broken droid parts waiting to be sorted into useful/fixable items and scrap, her hand comes to rest on a loose antenna missing the finial.  Almost thirty centimetres in length, thin, tapering slightly; the shape is vaguely familiar and Jyn picks it up and turns it idly in her fingers, seeking for the muscle memory to tell her why she feels she’s held one of these – _used_ one of these – before.  No-one uses broken antennae for anything.  Except cannibalising to mend other antennae.

She waves it up and down, holding it like a fine work-tool.

_That’s it, sweetest_ , says her mother’s voice in her memory; _and another loop like that, you’re picking it up already, clever boots!_

_Picking what up, mama; what were you trying to teach me?_

There’s a touch on her arm and she looks up into a familiarly friendly face. “I’ve got some more of those somewhere, Sergeant,” says Quartermaster 2nd Class Sanduni cheerfully. “If you want a pair of needles.”

_Needles.  Of course.  Mama thought I would be good at -_

“Knitting!” Jyn says, startled by the sudden rush of memory. 

Sanduni twitches back a fraction at her emphatic tone of voice.  “I’m sorry, how silly of me, I didn’t mean to imply – of course not everyone likes hand-crafts, I just thought –“

Jyn hurries to reassure her.  She’s fond of the kind-hearted Twi’lek; and it’s still a quiet source of happiness to her, to be able to be fond of people.  To have the time, and the safety, for such things. “I’m not cross, it’s okay.   I – I just couldn’t remember the word for a minute.  My mother taught me to stick-knit before she died, she thought I might be good at it because I liked fiddling with things and Papa said I had a mathematical brain.  Do you really have another one the same size?”  An idea is fluttering in the back of her mind; Cassian’s in the field and will be away till the day before the start of this next mission, and she’s already done almost all the background reading, but if she had something to do to while away the time...  “And do you have any wool?  Or thick cotton, or – string, or something?”

“Oh, yes!” The Twi’lek beams and very nearly claps her hands, stops herself just in time and slaps the colourful sash round her waist instead.  “Come through to Supply and Repairs as soon as – as soon as um –“

“As soon as I’m sure Cassian’s droid isn’t going to wallop Delbek?  I’m never sure K-2 won’t hit someone.  He just does it when he feels like it; besides, I’m meant to be here for _his_ safety as much as the Tech’s.  I’ll come as soon as I can.  Thanks.”

She returns to her data-pad.  But barely five minutes have passed before Sanduni is in front of her again, holding up a second antenna and a baggy sack of coloured fabrics.  “I’m so sorry, Sergeant, we don’t have any new wool or heavy thread to spare, mending materials aren’t in particularly good supply; but if you wanted, maybe it would be possible to unravel something from the rag-bag?  A lot of this is knit stuff and there might be –“ She breaks off as Jyn leaps down off the bench and grabs the bag.

“Sanduni, this is – this is really good.  Thank you!” 

Almost the first thing she finds is perfect, a knitted jersey with one sleeve almost ripped off and small burns scattered across the back.  It’s a deep steely blue in colour, a slightly darker shade than Cassian’s parka.  She pulls out her pocket vibro-blade and slits the ribbing of the hem, works out a loose thread and starts to pull.  With a soft sound like a felt zipper, the knitting begins to unravel.  The wool is kinked from use but otherwise sound, and Jyn grins and begins rolling it into a ball. “Seriously, Sanduni, thank you so much for this.”

“Are you interested in – in hook-knitting too, maybe?”  Sanduni asks, sounding shy but determined; and when Jyn looks up she sees a hopeful smile on the lavender-blue face.  “I’ve found several bits of wire that would work for knitting-hooks too, and there’s at least one parent-to-be looking for baby blankets, we could hook some together if you –“

“I never learned hooking, sorry.  Still need to see if I can remember how to stick-knit.  But –“ Sanduni looks downcast and Jyn remembers her bravery in NiJedha and feels mean as a tooth-dog suddenly.  “Maybe you could teach me, another time?  And if I can’t remember how to cast-on, may I come back later?”

“Yes, yes of course!   What – what are you hoping to make?  There’s going to be enough wool there for something, I’m sure.”

_Enough for something.  Well, yes.  Even a hot-pot-holder is **something** , after all.  Which is all I ever knitted as a child._  “I – uh – I was wondering if I’d be able to make a neck scarf.” 

The wool snaps off as she reaches the first of the burn holes and she tugs out the frayed parts and unravels another end; knots the two threads together and resumes winding.

“Oh yes, it’ll be beautiful,” says Quartermaster Sanduni.  She rummages in the scraps bag again, her voice bright with excitement.  “There’s enough wool there to make two, if you wanted.  A matching pair.  And – look – if you recycle the wool from this as well –“ she pulls out a smoky green woollen vest, already half-come-unravelled from a huge rip under the arm hole – “you could make them with stripes.  Blue and green; those are your colours, after all.”

“My colours?  It’s not for me, it’s for –“ _oops, no, stop right there, Jyn…_

Too late; she’s reckoned without Sanduni’s perceptiveness, and her unexpected but evident affection. “Oh, but then you _must_ make a pair.  One for each of you, so you match outside as well as within.  If you work hard you could finish them by Life Day.”  There’s that warm Twi’lek smile again.  “Blue for the Captain and green for you, your colours blended together to keep you both warm.  It’s wardrobe poetry.”

“Er…”

“And a good use of material that otherwise might have been shredded for insulation wadding, of course.  Sergeant, your – um – your companion is finished, I think.”

Jyn turns quickly.  K-2 is standing right at her back, leaning down and inclining his optical sensors on her.

“Jyn.  Why are you holding two broken astromech antennae and a ball of thread?” he asks. “Are you planning to try mending droids with bent wires and string?  Not the Techs here couldn’t do with the help.”

“No, Kay, this is for – ah-hah, in fact you can help me.  I’ll need someone to help me make skeins and your hands are far bigger than mine.”

She steers him out of the Stores bay with a smile back at Sanduni.  “Don’t tell the Captain, okay?”

K stamps down the corridor beside her.  “I fail to see how you expect to surprise Cassian with two antennae and a ball of string.”

“Force alive, what on earth are you suggesting?”  Though it is an appealing picture, now he’s put it into her mind.  But matching scarves would be a lot more practical.  “Come on, let’s get you back to quarters now.”

“ _Come along K, run along home now_.  Like an _irresponsible minor_ …”

“K, you just as good as implied I might be going to tie Cassian up with knitting wool.  My senior officer.  So who’s the irresponsible one again?”

“He would very soon get free if you did.”

“Don’t go giving me ideas.”

“He would not mind,” says K-2.  “Cassian is an adept escapologist.”  


End file.
